


Better Than Me

by Killer_Queen201



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gangs, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, cruxis, cruxis is a gang, no matter what universe Kratos makes bad choices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29613786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killer_Queen201/pseuds/Killer_Queen201
Summary: After the death of Martel, Kratos runs from his girlfriend, Anna, in an attempt to save her. 3 years later he finds himself facing the woman he left behind and a child that looks suspiciously like him.
Relationships: Anna/Kratos Aurion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Better Than Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally posting this! It's been sitting half-finished in my folder for years. I figured I'd post the first chapter and maybe that'll give me the needed motivation to finish this thing off.
> 
> Enjoy! Also I don't own ToS.

The warehouse floor was soaked with blood. A deep crimson that their movements smeared as they moved around her. Yuan was kneeling in the blood, his voice demanding that Martel not leave him.

Mithos was sobbing openly, each wail a stab to Kratos’ heart.

The traitor lay on the ground, both his kneecaps broken courtesy of the pipe held tightly in Kratos’ hand. He knew Mithos or Yuan -probably both- would want to deliver the killing blow so he held off.

His eyes closed, Martel wasn’t even supposed to have been there. She'd been painting the nursery. She'd been so convinced they'd be having a child soon. Yuan had just laughed and left her to it. And now, the bloody bullet wounds to her stomach and chest were ensuring none of them would ever hear her laugh again.

Yuan had taken to cradling her head in his lap, whispering something desperately in her ear. Martel lifted a hand slowly to touch Yuan's cheek, leaving a blood smear down the side of his face. Kratos saw her lips move before her eyes closed and her body went limp.

Mithos shrieked in agony and stood up to stalk over to the traitor bleeding on the ground.

He grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him up so their faces were level.

“Why?” the question tore from his throat, a broken sound that Kratos felt all the way down in his blackened soul.

The man whimpered but didn’t respond.

Mithos shook him violently and then threw him to the ground. Kratos heard the crack of the man’s head on the concrete floor and the man cried out.

Kratos chanced a glance at Yuan. His best friend was still cradling his wife’s dead body. He felt bile rise in his throat and looked back to where Mithos was screaming unintelligibly at the traitor on the ground.

He had been their friend. Had often sat with them in the pub, smiling and laughing and drinking. He’d spent nights with Kratos and Yuan as the men stared into their drinks. Nights where the things they’d done kept them up.

And now he’d killed Martel. Kratos felt numb.

Mithos had pulled his gun and was waving it in the man’s face, still screaming.

Kratos finally made a choice and moved to Yuan’s side, dropping to his knees.

Yuan wouldn’t look up, his eyes fixated on Martel’s face.

“Yuan!” Mithos voice was shrill, “Come here now! I want this traitor dead!”

Kratos watched Yuan’s mouth twitch into a grimace before he replied, “I’m not leaving Martel to lie here like no one cares.”

Mithos snarled at him, “Fine! I’ll do it myself!” The seventeen year old’s hands shook as he clicked off the safety of the gun and pointed it right at the traitor’s head.

The man was pleading, crying.

Kratos averted his eyes to stare at Martel’s lifeless body.

A gunshot rang out.

~~~~

It was almost four in the morning when Kratos finally entered the small apartment he shared with his girlfriend, Anna.

His chest, which felt impossibly heavy, lifted slightly at the thought of her. She was without a doubt, the best thing in his life. She was vibrant and loving. Never afraid to tell him exactly what she thought about anything and everything.

He was still in awe every day that she wanted to be with him. That she even let him touch her with his blood-soaked hands (not that she knew about what he did). He’d managed to hide it so far, telling her he was a businessman. She’d never pried, just laughed and said it sounded boring.

The apartment was dark and Kratos could hear the faint sound of Anna snoring. His lip twitched, a ghost of a smile at the familiarity and normality.

Kratos shucked off the clothes (he’d ditched the bloodstained ones back at the warehouse) and crawled into bed beside Anna. When they’d first started sharing a bed she’d told him that she slept naked and that he’d better ‘get with the program’. He’d just kissed her, all the while wondering how he had ever ended up with such a special woman.

He wrapped his arms around the woman of his dreams and pulled her back into his front.

Anna murmured sleepily and cracked her eyes open, head tilted back, to look at him.

“You’re home,” her voice was heavy with sleep.

Kratos hummed and pulled her closer.

“I love you,” her eyes closed again and she sank back into his arms, “You’re making me breakfast, I have a surprise.”

Kratos felt pain pull at his chest, a sharp jab. Anna, living and loving him without awareness of what was happening in his life. Anna, who’d never love him if she knew what he’d done. All the twisted, horrible things he’d done. What he’d participated in tonight. What he often had a hand in. Underhanded dealings, corruption, violence, and so much more.

Anna who deserved so much better than a cold, hard man. One who had nothing to offer her, his love was worthless. Could a man like him even feel love properly? 

Kratos knew he loved Anna, but he loved Anna the way Yuan loved Martel. And that love would destroy them both, especially once Anna discovered what he really did for a living. And she would learn, it was an inevitability of his fucked-up life. From the cradle he’d been bred for a life of violence and death. That wouldn’t ever change, no matter how much he wished it to.

Another pain throbbed in his chest, prompting Kratos to slowly unwrap himself from Anna’s body. He placed a kiss to her temple and made to leave the bed.

He heard her mutter and said quietly, “Just going to the washroom.”

Anna made another noise and rolled over, flinging her arm across his pillow.

Quietly, Kratos grabbed a backpack and filled it with the few things he deemed important. A few clothes, his wallet, the gun he had hidden under a floorboard, and the keys to his car.

Every move Kratos made, he felt his heart crack more.

‘It’s better for her,’ he told himself firmly.

He couldn’t resist grabbing a framed photo of the two of them from the wall. In it, Anna was laughing, having just smeared icing all over his face. They’d been making sugar cookies to give to the children who always came carolling in the dead of winter.

The last thing he did was write five words on a pad of paper beside their key bowl.

‘You deserve better than me.’


End file.
